Mother's Day

Ah, the joys of being a new mother. I remember them fondly; my hair was always wet because I never had time to dry it, sweat pants and t-shirts were my high fashion choices of the day, and my hands always looked ghostly due to the hourly application of Desitin ointment to tiny bottoms. But it was a time of cocooning as well, existing, at least for a little while, in a world that belonged to just me and my children. So as my son graduates from 8th grade and my daughter from 6th, I find myself missing their minute, sticky hands, and their toothless smiles. If I had some advice for Mrs. Trump, as glamorous and dazzling as she is, I'd tell her to kick off her shoes and enjoy this time with her son, because time really does fly as fast as they say it does.